The following letter is one of the most bizarre letters I’ve ever transcribed. Soldiers often mention their dreams and sometimes share short descriptions of them in their letters home but this is the first letter that devoted four full pages to detailing a single night’s dream in vivid detail. The letter was written by Aaron Eckert Killmer [or Kilmer] (1836-1911), the son of Thomas Kilmer and Elizabeth Eckert of Lebanon county, Pennsylvania, to his cousin, Callie. Aaron datelined his letter on 30 September 1864 from the US General Hospital at Point Lookout, Maryland.

From his obituary we learn that Aaron’s parents died when he was young but he managed to graduate from Franklin & Marshall college with honors. He first enlisted in April 1861, serving as a private for three months in Co. H, 5th Pennsylvania Infantry. He enlisted a second time in September 1862 as a commissary sergeant in Co. E, 17th Pennsylvania Cavalry. Aaron was with his regiment at Chancellorsville, Beverly Ford, Kelly’s Ford, Gettysburg, Boonsboro, Brandy Station, Mine Run, New Kent Court House, Bethesda Church, Cold Harbor, Trevillian Station, White House Landing, Raid to Lynchburg, Petersburg, Berryville, and finally at Appomattox. The obituary doesn’t indicate that he was wounded or ill leaving us to wonder why he was at Point Lookout, Maryland. He speaks of going about his “business” so we are left to presume that he was working there at the time and not in the hospital as a patient. His dream, however, leaves one to wonder if he suffered from delusions, post traumatic stress disorder, or simply an overactive imagination.

After he was discharged from the service in June 1865, Aaron returned to Lebanon where he became a school teacher for many years. He then resided in Reading and worked many years for his uncle, George J. Eckert, in the firebrick works.

To read more about soldier’s dreams, I’ll refer you to an interview of Dr. Jonathan White, Associate Professor of American Studies at Christopher Newport University in 2017 conducted by Ashley Whitehead Luskey for The Gettysburg Compiler. See Soldiers’ Dreams with Jonathan White.

Transcription

US Army General Hospital
Point Lookout, Maryland
September 30, 1864

Dear Cousin Callie,

Your letter of the 21st came to hand this morning and proved a very entertaining event to me in an hour of bare solace. I don’t know why it was that I felt so lonely but really everything that seemed so bright but a day before, was all overshadowed to me this morning. Never did the sun rise clearer and brighter over Point Lookout before, but yet all was one dark mass of bitter feelings of loneliness to me. Soon the mail came in and among it I realized your letter. Happy I felt indeed in but one moment, after having perused its contents; reflected over what had been my circumstances your letter reached me, and thus for the first time begin to remember the cause of my sadness in so bright and early a morning. Oh! it was all a dream in the fortnight and truly forgotten in the glorious morning! A singular event indeed it was. It appeared to me all morning as though something very sad had befallen me, and yet I could not imagine what it could have been. So I grew more and more perplexed at my own queer feelings, and finally believed that I done something very wrong, and begin to worry myself about it, and still could not convince myself of any crime that I could be guilty of.

After reading your letter it at once came to my memory that I was dreaming of you in the last night. Thus, I soon remembered my whole dream again. In the evening when I retired I lay awake pondering over some magnificent ideas which I read of late in an extract of Notre Dame. The windows being open, the wind howled through my room stronger as the midnight sea. Breath came on the point, whistling solemn music to my ears as the air struck the opposite corners of the room with increased force every minute, and thus I fell into a trance and dreamed I was in Notre Dame. There I stood and gazed upon the magnificent tower which looms up over 6000 feet into the air, filled with a chime of eight hundred bells of the clearest sound that ever fell upon the ears of mankind. Soon I gained entrance into that mighty steeple and was charmed with the eight hundred chime ringing instruments. Aye! to the topmost I must ascend, and when I stood there, earth rocked beneath me and the heavens shook above me. The frightful abyss below me dictated death to my eyes and the amazing chime of bells rung wild frantic to my ears. Louder and more fierce the bells rung out. Soon the whole tower quivered beneath me. I raised my voice above the mighty clamor of bells, and shrieked frantically for relief, but wilder the fierce tower shook and help no avail.

At last I jumped and slitted the air that every bone within me quaked and just before I struck the ground, awoke, but knew not rightly where I was, and soon fell into a trance again. But not Notre Dame. There came that white, Aye! ice cold snow-white form of a ghost, stood before me, gazing over me with eyes so glaring that it dazzled me in vengeance! For ever can I see those ivory teeth, its contraction and its expanding. Soon I wandered away and passed upon a forest, endless to my view. Wearied as I was, I continued my journey till I was completely jaded out. It is now I leaned against a lofty pine whose huge branches stood for rods over me and silent as the grave all around it seemed to my ears. It’s now I hear a human voice. I harked and soon I heard it again—plainer and nearer. Soon I heard the footsteps upon the forest lawn. It now steps from beyond the tree and addresses me thus, “Cousin Aaron, is that you? In all my confusion I replied yes. I gazed and gazed and stared at last and thus it was my cousin Carrie who found me in the wilderness on a stray path. She now conducted me out into the clearing and there we stood upon the banks of a bright, flowing river. Its waters were the brightest I ever saw, The landscape the most magnificent I ever beheld. Being weary with fatigue, we both lay down and fell asleep.

In my sleep, I heard my cousin call me to come, louder, louder, and still louder. I arose and saw her on the opposite side of the river in a beautiful land, still calling, “Come. Aaron.” Soon I plunged onto the dazzling water and thus awoke and found myself standing along side of my bed, not knowing whether I was in a dream or crazy. With a shame of feelings, I went to bed again. Soon the third trance was at hand. Again I was in that wilderness, traveling on, on, and on with a half remembrance that my cousin lead me out of it once before, but no end I found. At last I stepped into a deep pit. There I moaned for help but no help was there. Soon kind of a being came to me in that pit, and it appeared to me as a rebel. I drew my saber and stabbed him through the heart. I gazed upon a bright star continually and finally a robe lowered and I was once more drawn out on level terra firma. I started for that bright river, but stumbled over my Captain, and awoke the third time. It was now 5 o’clock. Time to go about my business.

I dressed and went about my business. Back of my room or bed chambers sleeps a Rebel. When my mind got on different business, I forgot my dream, but this thing of having drawn my saber and stopping a reb was not out of my mind. Soon I thought it was really so—that I had killed that Rebel who sleeps back of my bed chamber. So I worried myself awful until your letter reached me and as soon as I saw your name, I recollected the whole dream. Thus, it all was a dream and no one harmed. My dear cousin, write soon again. Yes, very soon. I am in health as usual and may I hope this meets you all in the good blessings of good health. Yours cousin, — Aaron E. Killmer